


One Enchanted Evening In

by Flamingbluepanda



Series: Interludes from a Happier Universe [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Cooking, Couch Cuddles, Dancing, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, How is that not a tag, Let Jack and Ianto be Goofy 2020, Literally just 2.6K of them being giggly and domestic, M/M, References to ABBA, Socks, Soft Jack Harkness, The Great British Bake Off References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27678968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flamingbluepanda/pseuds/Flamingbluepanda
Summary: “This is a date!” Jack called after him.Ianto said, “I’m in my socks, you heathen!”Jack and Ianto take a night off
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Interludes from a Happier Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073441
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80





	One Enchanted Evening In

**Author's Note:**

> In my head this is a vauge sequel to Come All You Restless because at the end of that one Tosh and Owen survive Exit Wounds for handwavey reasons. I mention this because Owen is mentioned and in canon he died before GBBO was on Netflix.  
> Also, before Netflix was really popular. 
> 
> Idk why their using Netflix, they have bbc, they get MORE BRITISH BAKE OFF THAN ME- anyway, this and restless may be the start of a fluffy au. Isn't that nice?
> 
> Dedicated to mel and sue, and also my Beta! Who is having a rough night and who I adore.

It was the first snow of the year. 

The winter had been unusually warm so far, meaning that Ianto had been  _ waiting  _ for snow. 

And now, it was finally snowing, and Ianto wasn’t even awake to appreciate it.

The grey weather outside was just peeking through the blackout curtains in the bedroom, and Jack kept glancing down to where Ianto had tucked himself neatly against Jack’s side, face pressed to Jack’s ribs and an arm strung over Jack’s waist. Over the duvet, a warm, wooly throw covered their feet. A laptop sat on Jack’s knees, playing Great British Bake Off reruns quietly. 

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t disturb Ianto, Jack grabbed his phone off the nightstand and almost fearfully checked for messages. He smiled when he saw that nothing was there. If there was, that meant that Owen and Gwen needed him to come, and if Owen and Gwen needed him to come, it meant he needed to leave the flat, and he was far too warm and comfortable for that. 

He frowned at the time. He’d have to get up soon anyway. Unless…

Jack mentally ran through what they had in the fridge. He could make it work if he made a few alterations to one of Ella’s recipes…

Decision made, Jack quickly called the restaurant they were supposed to have dinner at that night and held the phone to his ear. 

As it rang, Ianto’s quiet snores hitched, and he snuffled against Jack’s side. Jack smiled gently and brushed a finger across his forehead, brushing an errant curl back into place. He was so distracted watching Ianto that he didn’t even hear the person on the other end answer. 

“Hi, I have a reservation under Harkness, and I need to cancel.” 

He kept running his fingers through the soft curls on Ianto’s head. “No, no, it’s not because of the weather; my partner doesn't feel well. Uh-huh. No, I understand; keep it. Okay. I will; thank you.” 

He hung up just as Ianto twitched, feet shifting under the blankets. “Mm, time is it?”

“About five,” Jack said softly, bending over to kiss his forehead. Ianto yawned, stretching out a little. “Guess I have to get ready.”

“I cancelled our reservation. Figured I’d cook.”

“Oh, good.” Ianto flopped onto his back. “It’s too comfy here.” 

“Go back to sleep,” Jack said, rolling into his side to prop his head up on his fist. Ianto glanced up at him. “If I go to sleep now, I won’t sleep tonight.”

“Bet you would. You don’t sleep enough.” 

“Ah, well, my boss is a hardass.”

“Oh, really?”

“Uh-huh. I work all this overtime, and I don’t get so much as a benefit-“

“You fucking liar. You’re having a night off right now.”

“Yea, I am, aren’t I?” 

Ianto snorted, and Jack broke down into giggles, bending over to kiss Ianto’s cheek and forehead. Ianto smiled, tilting his head back for a kiss. 

“Mm… what were you gonna cook?” 

“It  _ might  _ involve eggs.” Jack kissed his forehead again. “If you’re determined not to go back to sleep, you should look outside.”

“Hm?” Ianto glanced at the crack in the curtains and smiled. “Is it finally snowing?”

He slid out of bed before Jack could answer and slid open the curtains, staring out into the grey evening outside. “Wow. It’s bloody  _ miserable.” _

“I’ll never understand the fascination with the cold in this century,” Jack said, shivering and pulling the blankets tighter around him. “Give me a sunny beach over the cold and wet any day.”

“You grew up in a desert; you're biased,” Ianto said without looking away from the snow. 

Jack scoffed, “Exactly my point, people  _ can  _ live in the desert so why  _ don’t  _ they?” 

“You’re the one who set up shop in Cardiff.” Ianto snorted, then shivered. “Bloody cold though.” 

He padded over to the dressing, bending at the waist to dig through his sweater drawer. Jack whistled lowly.  _ “Excellent  _ bottom.”

“You shut it,” Ianto said without looking, standing and shaking out an extra-large black hoodie with a logo that read  _ cannibal corpse  _ on it. Ianto slid it over his head, running a hand through his hair once it popped out the top.

Jack climbed out of bed, wearing his own sweatpants and t-shirt. He wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist, burying his cold nose in Ianto’s shoulder. 

“Do you have any hoodies that don’t have random death metal bands?” Jack asked, swaying them both on the spot. 

Ianto laughed. “Probably. Can I also interest you in some socks, Captain Freezing Toes?”

_ “Never.”  _ Jack grinned, and Ianto snorted again. 

“Fine, pick your own sweater then.” 

He pulled out of Jack’s grip to grab the laptop and exit the episode. “How much did I miss?” 

“Episode and a half,” Jack said, digging through the sweater drawer.  _ Death metal, death metal, death metal, Swedish death metal- _

“Did you pay attention to any of it?” 

“Was far more interested in watching you,” Jack said, settling on a faded blue sweater without a hood. He pulled it on carefully, mindful of his hair. 

Ianto tugged the sheets back into order then padded out into the main room. Jack, as always, followed after him. 

Ianto’s-  _ the  _ flat was open concept and not large. The kitchen faced a large sofa and home theater, and against the opposite walls were bookcases full of pictures, movies, mementos, and  _ books.  _ There was a single window seat, where Ianto liked to take his coffee sometimes, and a table behind the sofa. There was only one bedroom and shower but a half a bath off the main entrance, along with Ianto’s junk closet, which he claimed was not all junk.

(“Fair enough, you keep your ironing board in there.” 

“Shut up about my ironing board or I’ll kick you to the curb.”) 

The clothing Ianto had put in the dryer had dinged while they were taking their impromptu nap, and Ianto was crouched in front of it. He glanced up at Jack. “You see what we have for dinner, I’ll fold?” 

Jack hummed, opening the fridge. He pulled out all their leftover Chinese rice -- four and a half cartons; it had been a busy month -- and some minced garlic and butter. 

“If I wanted rice, we could’ve ordered out again.”

“If I wanted to order out again, I would’ve stayed at the Hub,” Jack replied cheerfully, laughing when he glanced at the pout on Ianto’s face. 

“Stop looking so put off. I’m making modified risotto. You have fish in the freezer; I’ll make that, Maybe some pesto too.” 

“God bless whoever taught you to cook.” Ianto snorted, shaking out a pair of Jack’s pants and folding them along the seam. 

“Do you even own any vegetables that aren’t from Chinese food containers?”

“Uh, there might be a week old squash in the fridge.” 

“What did I expect?” Jack rolled his eyes. It was an old argument, Ianto’s twenty-something instistance on eating takeout leftovers instead of a nice salad. Jack didn’t consider himself any sort of bastion of health despite the miraculous healing, but even  _ he  _ could appreciate a good salad. 

Anyway, Jack liked teasing Ianto about it half-seriously. Only half because sure, Ianto was young and healthy, but he also had a family history of heart disease and Jack  _ also  _ had a vivid memory of Ianto chainsmoking his way through his first weeks working for him. 

So. Jack would let him have his leftovers for now. In a few years, when he really  _ did  _ have to start thinking about these things, Jack would still be here. He’d force Ianto to eat his leafy greens and take his anti-cholesterol meds and tease him when he went grey.

“Can I safely breathe on whatever planet you’re at, spaceman?” Ianto teased, and Jack blinked, realizing that he was zoning out, still stirring the rice in the pot. The laundry was all folded, and Ianto had pulled out the squash and a knife. 

“Figured we could chunk it and roast it?” Ianto asked. “Do squash and fish go together?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Jack said, then stepped forward. “Hey, c’mere-“

He kissed Ianto softly, one hand cupping the back of his neck and one hand on his hip. Ianto’s lips were warm and chapped, with stubble poking against Jack’s cheeks. He felt warm and  _ in love. _

He stepped back, letting the moment linger as Ianto’s nose brushed his. 

Then, quietly: “I’ll prep the fish; you finish chopping that.” 

Ianto grinned. “Yes,  _ sir.”  _

Jack growled and playfully pinched Ianto’s ass, making Ianto laugh. 

Jack’s heart sped up. He’d do anything for that sound. Ianto turned back to the cutting board while Jack turned to the pot. He tapped a few buttons on his vortex manipulator, playing some of the seventies music he had on there. He heard Ianto stifle a squeak as Flashdance started playing and then started quietly singing along. Jack smiled, dancing a little as the music picked up. 

They finished their tasks, and Jack set the rice to simmer, then popped the fish and squash in the oven with herbs. Music was still playing from the vortex manipulator, filling the kitchen. Ianto put his hands on his hips. “Well? What now?”

The way he pointedly gave Jack an up and down look indicated what he wanted, but Jack just grinned placidly at him. “Hmm… how about this?”

He tapped a few more buttons on his vortex manipulator, and a familiar techno sound started playing. 

Ianto burst out laughing so hard that he bent in half, and Jack smirked, swaying his hips and singing along,  _ “I wasn’t jealous before we met! Now every guy I see is a potential threat-” _

“Oh my god, stop, stop, I’m gonna piss!” Ianto said, laughing hard enough that he was crying. Jack swept him up in his arms, leading him around the tiny kitchen in a dance. Ianto laughed, pressing their foreheads together and kissing him briefly before dipping Jack over his arm and stealing the lead. Lay All Your Love on me kept playing until they were both singing off-key and laughing. Heaven Is A Place On Earth played next, and they just kept dancing, swaying together until Ianto sighed. 

“We should check in on Gwen and Owen.” Jack nodded. “Can you? I’ll set the table.”

“Unless we want to eat on the couch like heathens,” Ianto said, stepping out of Jack’s reach and grabbing the laundry from the counter.

“This is a date!” Jack called after him.

Ianto said, “I’m in my socks, you  _ heathen!” _

Jack shook his head, grabbing plates and silverware. He cleared the table of mail and newspapers and guns, then set them down. He grabbed candles off the shelf, then a lighter. He folded some napkins into swans. 

“Everything’s quiet; Rhys brought them dinner,” Ianto said, pausing when he came back in. “Aw, Jack…”

“I’d run out and buy flowers, but it’s snowing, so we don’t have a centerpiece.” Jack glanced back at him. “What?"

Ianto looked touched, smiling the same way he had the night of their first date, like he couldn’t believe that Jack was there. “I- Nothing, forget it.”

Ianto went to go check on the food, and Jack watched him go, sighing happily. “Hey, do we have any alcohol?”

Ianto opened the alcohol cabinet and stuck his head in, “We have rum, we have beer, uh- Oh!” 

He leaned back, clutching two bottles. “G&T?”

“Ooh, I’ll take one.” 

The timer dinged while Ianto was pouring, and when Jack rose to get the food, he waved him off. “You cooked, I’ll plate. Sit. Find something more romantic to play.”

Jack switched to instrumentals, and Ianto walked over with two plates and two gin and tonics. He would’ve looked like a proper waiter if not for the death metal hoodie and the mismatched fuzzy socks Owen had gotten him for Christmas last year. 

Jack said as much, and Ianto snorted. “Careful, or I’ll go change into a suit, and you can let your food get cold.” 

“I will  _ never  _ complain about you in a suit. If I complain about you in a suit, I’m either an imposter or  _ really  _ impatient in bed.” 

“I’m not going to comment on that since tonight has been so wonderful,” Ianto said, taking a seat and raising his glass. “And it has been. Wonderful, I mean.”

Jack clinked their glasses together, and they drank. 

Ianto tried the squash first while Jack dug into the risotto. Ianto chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. “I know you taught yourself to cook, but was risotto a trial and error thing, or?”

This was what Jack loved about Ianto. His questions always made Jack  _ think  _ and were never tinged with jealousy or judgement.

“A girl I was temporarily engaged to just after World War One taught me.” Jack smiled. “Ellie was her name, but I called her Bella Ella. She died of the Spanish flu before the wedding.”

“She wasn’t the wife, right?”

“Maggie was earlier.” Jack smiled softly. “1872, when I was convinced, I had to build a single life here.  _ What a woman. _ ” 

“Lisa tried to teach me how to cook her mum’s special cream puffs once,” Ianto sighed. “It didn’t go well.”

“Did you set anything on fire?” Jack teased, and Ianto snorted. 

“No, but it was a close thing. I  _ swear  _ I can cook.”

“Just not well.”

“We can’t all have a hundred years experience in the kitchen.” 

Jack laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “Ah, well, that’s why you have me, right?”

Ianto’s foot brushed his under the table. “Amongst other things.” 

Jack smiled at him, taking a bite of his food. “I’m glad we took off tonight.”

“Me too. It’s been a while.” Ianto sighed happily. “And this risotto is better than anything a restaurant could’ve produced.”

Jack fluttered his eyelashes playfully. “The secret ingredient is love.”

He stretched out the O sound until it sounded like a U sound, and Ianto snorted so hard gin sputtered out of his mouth. Jack burst out laughing. “Fuck, sorry!”

Ianto grabbed his napkin and wiped his face, laughing. “You bloody jerk, I hate you!”

“Yeah, yeah, love you too sunshine,” Jack snorted. Ianto beamed at him the same way he always did when Jack said that, even jokingly. 

They ate, chatting amicably. Afterward, Jack washed the pans, Ianto washed the plates, and they pulled a tub of ice cream out of the freezer and grabbed two spoons. 

“Alright,” Jack said seriously. “It’s time for grown-up fun.” 

Ianto snorted, grabbed a spoon, and then plopped on the couch. “What episode did I miss?”

“Pastries!” Jack chirped, settling next to him. Ianto went to the episode and hit play while Jack excitedly dug into the ice cream. Between the two of them, they polished off the container, and this time, Jack was tucked under Ianto’s arm. 

Ianto kissed his hair. “Lean forward?”

Jack shifted, and Ianto grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch, swinging it over Jack’s legs and body. 

“Since you refuse to wear socks,” Ianto teased. 

Jack hummed happily, snuggling closer. He vaguely remembered the episode from earlier, so he went back to his favorite pastime -- watching Ianto. The lights were low, the snow was falling outside, and Jack was warm and full and comfortable. 

His eyes grew heavy. He yawned. Ianto smiled down at him -- so  _ gorgeous, _ Jack swore that smile could make flowers grow. 

“Let’s go to bed?” Ianto offered, but Jack just snuggled closer. 

Outside, Cardiff kept moving. Time marched on. 

Here, it was just them. Safe. Together. Ianto was here. Jack was home.

“A little longer,” Jack asked. “Just give me a little longer.”

**Author's Note:**

> Im! on! tumblr! www.flamingbluepanda.tumblr.com
> 
> Keep an eye out for more things involving GBBO lmao
> 
> I Love You!


End file.
